


endless disconnect

by NathalieWeasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-16 17:18:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/864596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NathalieWeasley/pseuds/NathalieWeasley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LJ's hp_humpdrabbles Prompts: <a> Let’s Get Zesty </a> / Cormac McLaggen / <i>"You want to know how many women I’ve slept with? Hundreds, maybe more. I don't know. I was tired of the endless disconnect. Because when I'm inside someone, there's only one face I see."</i> ~ Sons of Anarchy</p>
            </blockquote>





	endless disconnect

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: Thanks to E for the beta. Title comes from Sons of Anarchy quote in prompt.
> 
> Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JKR. No copyright infringement is intended.

"Guess what I heard? McLaggen’s the new poster boy for Quality Quidditch. _I_ even heard that he does all the ads without trousers on.”

A fit of giggles drifted from the gossiping girls across the pub, unpleasantly jarring Cormac’s thoughts. He ground his teeth, chugged the rest of his ale, and quietly stepped out of the Leakey Cauldron, heading off down Charing Cross Road. That’s all he would ever be seen as: a sex object. When he was younger, being wanted by hundreds of witches had been all he wanted. Stupid Potter’s comments in sixth year about his lack of “sportsmanship” had hurt his success rate but gaining a role as the newest “Let’s get jaunty” man in the current campaign for Quality Quidditch Supplies had been a stroke of luck. 

That had been three years ago. Three years of endless disconnect with different women yearning for only a piece of generic sex god while all he yearned for was one Ginny Weasley, or, rather, _Potter_. Damn Potter for winning the war _and_ getting the fucking girl. More accurately, getting to _fuck_ the girl. The quick grin that blossomed on Cormac’s face at the image of Ginny _Potter_ being ridden was quickly removed by the thought of the man that would be riding her. Fucking Potter. 

Glancing around, Cormac realized he had wandered several blocks from the entrance to Diagon Alley. He was currently standing outside some Muggle pub called _The Porcupine_ on the edge of Charing Cross and Great Newport Street. Figuring one pub was as good as the next to get smashed in, Cormac stumbled inside, accidently brushing against some woman just inside the entrance. About to simply brush by the broad, Cormac noticed the woman’s hair – her vibrant, red hair – was a seemingly identical match to the witch of his fantasies. All he had to do was get her in front of him and bend her over with her face turned away, and he could be pounding into _Ginny Potter_ all night. 

Putting on his “jaunty” smile, Cormac winked at the woman. “Excuse me, miss; could I buy you a drink?”

Ten minutes later, Cormac was in the hallway by the loo with the woman, holding her body against the wall as he slammed into her over and over. He grabbed long fistfuls of bright, red hair and imagined himself entering the body of a completely different ginger as he came violently into the woman and slumped against her back.

After a second, the woman breathed out a disgusted “Ugh, can you get off me?” The slurred voice jarred into Cormac’s fantasy. “Fine,” he grunted. “Good shag.”

Mumbling, the woman stumbled away from him, back to the bar, but Cormac couldn’t bring himself to join her. Not bothering to look around, he Apparated into the bedroom of his apartment and fell down onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut. Ginny’s face appeared behind his eyelids and he groaned. No matter how many women he slept with, hers was the only face he would ever see.


End file.
